


I'm Older Than I Look

by FenarielTheDalishMage



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Torchwood
Genre: Edmund gets lost, Edmund had stayed in Narnia after the Dawn Treader, Gen, M/M, Reepicheep the noble mouse, Retcon, Reunions, Rift, Weevils (Torchwood), more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 20:42:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7816528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FenarielTheDalishMage/pseuds/FenarielTheDalishMage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a risky move to change the tide of battle Edmund wakes up in a strange place with people who don't believe he's who he says he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Older Than I Look

Edmund shivered as he slowly came back to consciousness, squeezing his eyes shut when bright light assaulted his eyelids. He tried to shift but stopped when a cold stabbing pain made itself known in his ribs. He breathlessly groaned and reached out for the hand that would usually be rubbing his head while he recovered but was surprised when he met the cold feel of metal and heard the loud sounds of beeping that sped up along with his frantic breaths. His eyes snapped open, expecting to see a sword, but instead saw something similar to medical eauipment that reminded him of the world he originally came from. He panicked and looked around the white circular room that reminded him of a hospital, bringing back the memories of shelters during the air raids. 

“Cas–” He had to clear his throat before trying again, grimacing at the dry burning feeling when he spoke. “Caspian? Caspian!” 

 

A man in a white coat— _doctor_ , his mind supplied—hurried down the steps, followed by a man in a a blue button up shirt and suspenders, and tried to calm him down. "Oi, come down, mate. You can't be moving around too much, that stab wound's going to open up again at this point!" 

“Where am I? Where's Caspian! Where's Reepicheep! Where is this?” The light was too white, it wasn't warm like the glow of the fireplaces and candles that lit the halls of Cair Paravel, it was too cold and lifeless, making him yearn for the sun and trees, the nymphs and dryads and their songs and games. 

The dark haired man came over to him and took his hand, his voice gentle and soft. “Hey, it's okay, you're safe. Please, I need you to calm down before you hurt yourself.”

 

Edmund stopped cold, his eyes widening in horror. He knew that accent, though he hadn't heard it in a long time. That accent was American, never anything like it in Narnia, meaning he was back in the world he'd been born in, meaning he wasn't in Narnia, with Caspian and Reep, and Aslan. Magic didn't exist, he was just a boy here, he couldn't fight with a sword or negotiate with a quill and parchment. “By Aslan, why? Why was I sent back?” Tears gathered in his eyes, as the gravity of the situation hit him. He was all alone.

The two men didn't seem to know how to react to the sudden change, but they didn't have to for long. “Unhand me, you coward! Were you a man of honor, you would take up a sword and fight like one!”

 

Edmund's eyes lit up as he recognized Reepicheep's voice. “Reepicheep!”

There was a brief sound of scuffling and someone cursing before the pattering and skittering of clawed feet which announced the noble mouse's arrival. He jumped over the two men and landed on the young King's bed, his sword pointed at the ready, prepared to defend his King. “Your Majesty, I am relieved to see you alive and awake. Now then, fear not for I shall not let a single hair on your head be touched unless they kill me!” 

 

The American man looked like he couldn't decide between being staring or laughing so he he did both,my amusement in his eyes. "How did you get away from Ianto, and where did you get that adorable little sword?"

In a flash, the mouse had climbed up onto the man, pinned his hands behind his back with one of his suspenders and held the  sharp end of his sword up against his neck, barely putting enough pressure to make a shallow cut, but enough to get the message across. "Rude, size does not determine one's skills. Now then, you will order your men to release us and will walk away with your cowardly life, do not and you will be dead faster than you can blink.”

 

The man didn't seem too worried, but his friends did, and that was enough for Edmund to realize they weren't understanding something. He cleared his throat again before speaking in something Caspian had taken to calling his "No nonsense, demanding" voice. “Reepicheep, release him.”

The mouse looked at him doubtfully and started to speak reproachfully. “With all due respect, Sire–”

“Do you mean to question me, Reepicheep?”

The knight immediately complied and swept into a low bow after jumping to the floor and taking his feathered earring into his hand. “Not even for a chance to see Aslan himself, Sire. I offer my most sincere apologies and beg your majesty's forgiveness.”

 

The American bowed in a kngightly fashion, though not as grandiose as Reepicheep's, and spoke in a tone that sounded genuinely serious if not somewhat amused. “My apologies, your majesty, we had no knowledge that you were of royal standing. Both my men and myself humbly beg for your forgiveness for committing this grave offense.”

Edmund couldn't help the snort that erupted from him at the man's tone. It spoke of a soldier who really wasn't sorry but knew they had to kiss ass if they wanted to get whatever job they had done. And, by the look in the man's eyes, he realized he was bowing to a fellow soldier, even if he was royalty. 

 

Reepicheep's voice brought him back to his troubled thoughts when he looked around warily, taking in the odd surroundings. “Sire, where do you suppose we are?”

Edmund hesitated for a moment before replying with a worried tone. “I'm guessing England, Reep.”

 “Cardiff, Whales actually, but close guess.”

“What year is it? This definitely doesn't look like the kind of technology that would've been developed right after the war.”

 

The doctor came forward, but stopped when Reepicheep stood in front of Edmund, sword at the ready. “War? Which war, exactly, because there hadn't been a war in over eighty years, give or take a decade, depending on who you ask.”

The young king's face went pale and he sounded terrified and overwhelmed. “It's been that long?” He held his face in his hands and took a shaky breath that turned into a sob. “Lu and Susan and Peter, our parents, Eustice, everyone is gone...dead or probably in a home by now. I...I can't believe it, gone...they're all gone...” He trailed off into a body wracking sob that made the doctor turn nervously to the man in suspenders.

 

“Jack, I think you're probably most qualified to handle this one. I'm...going to go back and continue my chat with the medical officer of Torchwood 6 in the states, see if I can figure out what that artifact from last week was.”

“Okay. Do me a favor, ask if she and her siblings need another transfer soon, pretty sure it's coming up to the ten year mark. They're gonna have to close shop for a while and maybe stay with us for a generation or two.”

“Yeah, yeah, anything else you want me to tell the freaky immortal wonders that are the Pevencies?”

 

Edmund stopped sobbing suddenly and almost flung himself off the gurney to grab the doctor's arm. “Th...that name! Where did...did you hear it from!”

He barely noticed the sudden frantic beeping of the machines connected to him as he held onto the man for dear life. The doctor cursed colorfully before grabbing the young king's face. “Oi! Calm down, you're going to throw yourself into cardiac arrest!”

The younger man didn't even realize that his vision was blurring until it was too late, leaving him hanging off the gurney and gasping for breath as everything became muffled and fuzzy before returning to blessed oblivion.


End file.
